


The Audacity

by TheRoarOfAtlas



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: A delicious steak dinner, Alone On Valentine's Day trope, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood, Dry Humping, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, I am no good at writing with prompts, Incubus Jeff Hardy, Knife Metaphors, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Summoning, Summoning Circles, Unleashing An Incubus, Valentine's Day, and a lovely velour rug, on a Thursday, reader has female body parts, thirst party saturday, winter writing challenge, wrestlers without the wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 15:26:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRoarOfAtlas/pseuds/TheRoarOfAtlas
Summary: Thirsty Crew, happy Valentine’s Day! This was written for helplessly-nonstop's Winter Writing Challenge over on Tumblr, utilizing prompt number thirty two: “May God bang us all.” “Well, he may not bang us, but I will definitely bang you.” Enjoy!





	The Audacity

**Author's Note:**

> [!TRIGGER WARNING!: Contains mentions of typical incubus behavior, vague and absolutely inaccurate summoning rituals, blood in general and a hint of sacrilege. Stay safe!]

Catchphrases were sort of your _thing_. Witty quips and one-liners were all but your bread and butter. They had served you well in your life. That is, until now.

  
  


You stared at the… _whatever_ it was in your apartment, the thing that seemed to be slowly solidifying into a vaguely masculine form. Your finger was still stinging from nicking it with that steak knife, but you pushed it away for the moment.

  
  


Your creative brain was having a real bear of a time parsing what it was seeing, and your words failed you as the…well, probably-male figure shook his head and stretched his arms out with an obnoxiously loud yawn.

  
  


“‘Bout fuckin’ time.” He groaned. You were abruptly pinned to the floor, a set of curious green eyes boring into your own. “You summoned me, yeah? Well, whatcha’ want?”

  
  


“I uh. Pardon?” You asked weakly.

  
  


Those eyes narrowed. “Playin’ coy, huh? Nice try.”

  
  


“How…How did you get in here?”

  
  


His right eye twitched and he settled back on his haunches, making an irritated noise while he gathered the long, dark hair out of his face. “You’ve gotta’ be shittin’ me. I’m askin’ for a circle redesign, this is the third fuckin’ prank call in a hundred years!” He griped, hands working behind his head to tie his hair back. “ _Finally_ have the chance to work all my kinks out and it’s just some slack-jaw sittin’ in their livin’ room!”

  
  


“Hey!” You yelped. “Excuse the hell out of _me_ , buddy! If someone decided to magically appear in the middle of _your_ living room, I’m sure you’d be pretty slack-jawed yourself!”

  
  


“I’d get a shovel, if we’re bein’ hypothetical,” the man(?) replied, prowling around you on all fours. His baggy pants dragged on the floor. They looked strikingly similar to something you would have worn during an emo phase (which you may or may not have had in your younger years). “I’m not exactly big on _hospitality_.” His right shoulder blade and arm were covered with a tattoo that looked eerily like a network of large, hole-riddled veins. Your overactive imagination swore up and down that it was glowing faintly purple and shifting more than could be explained away by his motion.

  
  


A discordant jangle caught your attention and you glanced down, noticing for the first time that he was wearing a collar with a long length of chain attached. Try as you might, you couldn’t seem to locate the _other_ end of the chain. You hurriedly got to your feet and sidestepped out of the loop he was making around your ankles. “Listen, I don’t know who you are or how you got in here, but if you leave now I won’t call the police.” You gave him what you hoped was a stern look.

  
  


“ _You_ summoned me, y’ dumb–look at the damn _floor_.” He retorted, gesturing at the area he had appeared. Specifically, the area of thick rug where you had been absently dragging your fingers through the luxurious pile of fibers and enjoying a lonely steak dinner.

  
  


You had cut yourself accidentally while trying to slice off another piece from the steak, the serrated blade of the steak knife easily parting your skin. Blood had started to dribble quickly, splattering onto the plate and the rug when you bolted to your feet to grab a paper towel. And when you had returned…

  
  


“ _That_ ,” The man stressed, pointing at the messy circle and lines you had drawn into the velour of the rug, “is my circle. You gave a _human_ blood offerin’ after drawin’ the circle, kinda’ old school but whatever. So I’m here now. Here to fulfill your needs.” He spoke slowly, obviously mocking you. “You get all that?”

  
  


“Well no, not really. I…h-hey, let go!” You exclaimed when he snagged your wounded hand.

  
  


He proceeded to ignore you and smear the tiny amount of blood left on your finger with the end of his nose, looking back up at you after several moments of silence. His pupils had shrunk to pinpoints in the green-blue of his irises. “You have no idea what you’ve done, do you.” It was sort of a question. Maybe. You shook your head. “ _Augh_. What the _fuck_.”

  
  


“Get fucked Sunshine, your shitty attitude and vague explanations aren’t helping whatever situation I’m in right now!” You snapped, entirely through with his griping.

  
  


“You _brought me here_ , okay? I only show up for one thing.” He said after a long pause where he seemed to be trying to formulate a sentence. “I don’t look like this normally. I look like this because _that’s what you wanted_. I’m here only because you asked…or, demanded. Bein’ summoned can get to be a gray area after a while. Do you at least know what I’m here for?”

  
  


“I don’t understand any of this so, no.”

  
  


He put his face in his hands, yowling down into his palms in what was clearly frustration. “Alright butterbean, no sense beatin’ around the bush. Since you’re a damn _dumbass_. I’m here to fuck you.” He snarled finally. “I’m summoned to _fuck_. You specifically. You designed my body. That’s how this shit works. It’s made to be appealin’ to _you_.”

  
  


_I’m here to fuck you_.

  
  


You were entirely at a loss, staring at him in disbelief.

  
  


_You designed my body_.

  
  


You inhaled sharply, trying to keep your eyes from wandering. He still seemed to notice, if his little smirk was any indicator. “You like what you made? It’s all yours to play with. Every _inch_.” He undulated his body, hands laced behind his head in a smug pose. “You’re lookin’ hungry. Why not let me satiate that appetite of yours?”

  
  


“I…I am just so confused right now.” You said weakly.

  
  


“Don’t think. You’re alone on Valentine’s Day and I am the answer to your heart’s call.” He murmured.

  
  


“I mean that’s _great_ and all but… _hey_ , how do you know I’m alone?!” You exclaimed, folding your arms across your chest.

  
  


He raised an eyebrow at you, then glanced pointedly down at the solitary plate on the carpet. “Really?”

  
  


“Good _God_ you’re rude. Supernatural entity my ass, I’ve met sixth graders with more maturity.”

  
  


Those green eyes flashed dangerously. “Your God’s got nothin’ to do with me an’ that’s just how I like it.”

  
  


“Well well! The personalized fuck machine has daddy issues. Who could have guessed?” You shot back, confused when a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  
  


“Mm, I _like_ this. Sharp little knife of a thing, ain’t you?” He advanced, forcing you to step backwards or risk being within reach. “Who made you that way? Doubt you came out the womb spittin’ venom.”

  
  


“I trained in the mountains. Sat under waterfalls and wrestled bears.”

  
  


“Aha, you’re so _quick_. It’s been ages since anyone’s given me this level of sass.” Your back hit the wall and his hands pressed to the space over your shoulders, loosely caging you in. “I can’t hurt you. I’m only here for one thing. Sure I like playin’ with my food, but I won’t do anythin’ you don’t consent to, my little blade.”

  
  


The term should have been insulting, and yet, it seemed almost…endearing when he said it. Affectionate. As though he believed you were dangerous and actually _respected_ you for it.

  
  


“So what do you want me to do? What’s your heart’s desire in the bedroom? Your softest wish, the one you ain’t told nobody?” He whispered the words, his voice low. “Whatever you want, my beautiful, sharp-edged summoner, it’s yours.”

  
  


“Whew, you say some wild shit.” You managed to reply after a moment of mentally fanning yourself. He was so close, his chest nearly touching your own every time he took a breath. You felt warm and a little giddy, dizzy from the attention he was lavishing upon you.

  
  


“I say what I need to.” His fingers brushed your cheek. “An’ I wait for the go-ahead on everythin’ else.” He grimaced suddenly, hand flying to the collar around his neck. “ _Fuck_ you, that’s how it’s always been. No need t’ strangle me old man.” He snarled under his breath.

  
  


“Who are you talking to?” You asked in bewilderment.

  
  


“The oh-so-merciful one holdin’ the other end of the chain.” He coughed out the words, air wheezing in his throat. You could see that the chain was pulled as tight as it could go. “He gets wound up about _nasty_ things like me. Wants me to be ugly about this an’ I–”

  
  


His voice abruptly cut off and he clawed at the collar, seemingly unable to undo the simple buckle you could plainly see.

  
  


You reached out your hand to him without thinking and strangely, he took it and pressed it to his cheek. ‘ _Thank you’_ , he mouthed. His luminous eyes were pained when he released you.

  
  


Your fingers snatched at the buckle beneath his chin, the sharp metal punching into the skin of his throat. His eyes widened as your other hand came up and started to feed the free end of the collar through the buckle. It was harder than you thought it would be; jagged spikes laced the inside of the leather like shark’s teeth, digging in and refusing to let go. “Hang on, okay?” You muttered, wriggling the strap with all your might.

  
  


“What are you-?” His breathing hitched and he fumbled to grab your wrist. “Y’ can’t, wai–” He pleaded, shaking his head.

  
  


You glared at him, your eyes narrowed. “Listen, if what I’m doing is wrong, is an affront to the big man or _whoever_ it is that’s choking you out right now, well…” You paused, finally loosening the buckle enough to pull the strap free. Those spikes tore out of his neck and you flung the collar across the room with all your might. “Then I guess…may God bang me for my insolence, or whatever. May God bang us all.” You finished proudly, dusting off your hands in a self-satisfied manner.

  
  


“Well,” The man in front of you drawled as he straightened up, his teeth flashing in a lazy grin, “He may not bang _us_ , but I will definitely bang _you_.” The wounds on his neck had started bleeding lightly, like they were nothing but scrapes instead of the deep punctures you knew them to be. Hands slammed into the wall over your shoulders and he leaned in close. “The name’s Jeff, little blade, an’ it seems I owe you a debt of gratitude.” Those vibrant green eyes fell to your mouth. “I could never remove the collar myself, and no one has ever been particularly interested in releasin’ me from it.” Jeff’s breath ghosted across your lips. “I assume you’ll accept payment up front?” He whispered.

  
  


When had your hands landed on his shoulders? Your palms pressed down on the flesh beneath them, fingers fumbling at Jeff’s skin. _What an ordinary name_.

  
  


Seeming to sense your hesitation, Jeff dropped to one knee in front of you. Firm hands grabbed your hips and he began pressing kisses to your stomach right above where your skirt began. “Let me please you?” He murmured against your shirt, a growl rumbling in his throat. “It’s the least I can do, y'know.”

  
  


…

  
  


Their fingers were smearing the blood that had started to pool in the divots of his shoulders and collarbone. Jeff bit the satisfied snarl down into a safe little growl, his neck tendons snapping taut beneath this unfamiliar skin. This precious little dagger of a human had no idea what they were doing to him; a concealed blade that slid its way between his ribs to prick his long-cold heart.

  
  


He inhaled sharply through his teeth when their hands moved up into his hair, tugging it gently at the roots. They still reeked of sadness and frustration, tastes bitter on his tongue. “Why the hell not,” They mumbled. “Go on ahead.”

  
  


Jeff was an incubus. For as long as he could remember, as long as he had been collared, he had been driven forward by a bone-deep desire to conquer, claim, _intimidate_. With the leash gone though, it was as if everything became smooth. He could see past the tunnel vision of _what he was made for_ and venture tentatively into the new realm of _what he could actually do_.

  
  


And this human had made it possible.

  
  


Jeff jerked the metal snap on their jeans off with one twist of his fingers, sending it flying outside the halo of light from the lone lamp. They gasped, their hands grabbing his own.

  
  


Jeff could have pulled away. Easily. Overpowered them easily. _Taken_ _them_ easily. Something stopped him, the knife point piercing him just a bit more. Their eyes were startled, knuckles whitened with the effort of stilling his hands.

  
  


“Be gentle, okay?” They said, “Don’t hurt me.”

  
  


Jeff was seized with a strange sensation. He didn’t _want_ to hurt them, that was the odd part. But hurting so often seemed to go hand in hand with acts like this, leaving him at a loss. He let them cup his face and he sucked their wounded finger into his mouth, making them inhale as he laved the sensitive skin with his rough tongue.

  
  


“Show me.” He muttered, quickly returning their finger to his mouth after he spoke. He felt them press down on his tongue, a light pressure that turned into a stroking motion. They seemed to be marveling at the texture more than anything, which was amusing. “I imagine you’d like this tongue in at least one other place, yeah?” He prompted, grinning at the way he could feel their pulse start to race. “Lay down, little blade. Show me what you like.”

  
  


They obliged after a little more coaxing, their shyness nearly too endearing for Jeff to handle. He wanted to fuck it out of them, but at the same time he loved it so much he never wanted them to stop. The way they curled up, the way their body trembled and heated under his touch…it was intoxicating.

  
  


When they finally, _finally_ helped him peel their jeans off, Jeff was certain that he was dreaming. Their thighs fell open for him without another protest, his sweet little blade unfurling the most delicate petals he had ever encountered. Awed, almost dazed, Jeff slid his fingers over them, collecting the slick that had gathered. They whimpered, the noise rippling down his spine in a shudder of want.

  
  


Jeff covered the insides of their thighs with kisses and nips, tormenting himself with the knowledge that they were _right there_ but they needed him like this. Needed these lip-presses and bites far more than anything else at the moment. They had laid down on the very edge of the circle of light cast by the lamp, their face and upper body illuminated by the soft glow. He watched them bite down on their own knuckles, eyes closed and head tipped back.

  
  


He couldn’t refrain any longer.

  
  


Jeff buried his face in the apex of their thighs. They cried out at the first stroke of his rough tongue, their free hand raking through his hair. Jeff growled against them and made no effort to hide the noises of his satisfaction, of their own wetness. He alternated between lashing their clit and soothing it with the smooth back of his tongue, the differing textures more than enough to make them knead at his scalp and mewl like a helpless kitten.

  
  


“Tell me how much y’ like it, my darlin’ summoner.” He whispered, looking up at them and then slowly, _slowly_ easing his tongue into them. The textured surface rubbed against their inner walls, urging forth a half-choked noise of desperation when he withdrew it. “Tell me whether I’m bein’ too rough, okay?” Jeff continued, thrusting his tongue back home to punctuate his request.

  
  


He set a pace that made his body ache, trying his hardest to be gentle while fucking them with his tongue. As deeply as he could reach, as slow as he could force himself to go, the flat of his tongue pressing upwards towards their pubic mound while his hand rubbed circles on their belly. Jeff closed his lips around their clit every time he fully sheathed his tongue in them, enfolding the sensitive nerves in the heat of his mouth.

  
  


He wasn’t sure how many times they came. They kept twitching and begging for more, their cracking voice a melody sweeter than any pleasure he had ever experienced. Hands in his hair, thighs gripping the sides of his head like they would die if he moved from between their legs…Jeff was certain this beautiful little blade had been rammed home into his heart.

  
  


He continued his breathless assault, his cock stiff and rubbing fruitlessly against the fabric of his baggy pants. Jeff took a selfish moment to grind his pelvis against their wet heat, his legs quivering with the desire to bury his cock in them and claim them until the sky pinked with dawn. But he shook it off, returning to working them over with his fingers and tongue. “One more for me? Can y’ maybe give me one more?” He murmured, chuckling at the whine of breath they let out. “It’s jus’ one more, little blade, I know you got it in ya’.”

  
  


They propped themselves up on shaking arms, their ability to still move surprising Jeff. He was even more surprised when they beckoned him up, up their body to their mouth. The kiss they gifted him was hungry, sweet, breaths panting into his mouth as they licked timidly over his tongue. There was nothing timid about the way they ground their hips against his own, though.

  
  


Jeff choked on his breath, grunting while they rocked their heat against the rigid line of his stiff cock. Their slick soaked through his pants and he let them push him onto his back, let them grind against the obviously display of his need. This was new. He had never _abstained_ from penetration.

  
  


They continued to shift their hips back and forth over his clothed cock, the press and slide of them absolutely maddening. It was a tease of a fuck, a pantomime that threatened to kill him with every hypnotic motion. Jeff’s hands fell to their hips, fingers digging in as he bucked up against them. He indulged in the newness of this fuck-tease for what felt like a lifetime, his pants saturated through with a mixture of their slick and his own. It eased the friction, urging him on more and more to hold their hips and force them down. He could feel the head of his cock prod their entrance every now and then through the fabric, that taunting little hitch that made them gasp and croon.

  
  


Jeff had never thought that _not_ penetrating someone could be this exhilarating, the muscles in his thighs straining against the desire to come. His body teetered halfway between frustration and completion for a short eternity, their fingers covering his own on their hips all the catalyst he apparently needed.

  
  


Jeff’s head fell back, his breath caught in his throat and when they bent down to kiss him, he moaned into their mouth while coming all over the inside of his pants. They just kept kissing him, their own body shuddering at the sensory overload of his previous ministrations. Jeff silently wrapped his arms around their shoulders and pinned them to his chest, their ear pressed to where his heart would be thundering.

  
  


But something like him had lost its heart a long time ago.

  
  


…

  
  


When you woke up, you kept your eyes shut against the sunlight. You felt…

  
  


_Strange_.

  
  


It was a mixture of headache and low level buzz under your skin. Your whole body was tender, half-numb but too sensitive all at once. The sheets twisted in your fingers as you pulled them up over your head, blocking out a little more of the light pouring in through the window.

  
  


_What a night_ , you mused. Bits and pieces of it played back, making you blush and bury your face in your pillow. _Hell of a way to spend a lonely Valentine’s Day, wet-dreaming yourself into a coma!_

  
  


When you opened your eyes though, you were met with the hysterical proof that last night had not, in fact, been a dream. You yelped in dismay as you stared down at the dark red marks on the insides of your thighs, headache forgotten while you floundered to get out of your bed. Struggling into your bathrobe, you rushed to the living room as fast as you could.

  
  


A sheet of paper laid in the middle of the _very obviously disturbed_ rug. You cringed as you took in all the lines that looked suspiciously like they had been clawed by fingers, all the areas that were pushed in a different direction than the rest of the carpet. That was what you got for splurging on a such a plush velour rug, you supposed.

  
  


You crept to the piece of paper (which appeared to be a note) and after hesitating for another moment, you knelt and picked it up gingerly.

  
  


_My beautiful little knife,_

_Leaving before the reality sets in is pretty much my forte, I’ll apologize for that. Normally I’m thrown out as a fantasy until the poor soul’s belly starts to swell with the fruits of my labor. Now that you freed me, well…I’m not really sure what trouble I can get into, but I_ _**am** _ _sure you’re going to see me again. Promise I’m not going to spend my free time ravishing morons in their living rooms. Unless it’s_ _**your** _ _living room, of course. You’re too sharp for me to be able to stay away for very long._

_Happy Valentine’s and all that crap,_

_Jeff_

  
  


“Oh.” You breathed, your fingers tracing over the messy circular pattern he had drawn in the lower left corner of the paper. “Damn. Alright then. Thank you, overly-expensive fuzzy rug.” You continued aloud, petting the fibers beneath your knees as a grin slowly snuck it’s way onto your face. “Happy Valentine’s Day to me in-fucking-deed. May God bang us one and all.”


End file.
